


The French Drop

by DoreyG



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Arguing, Illya Being a Troll, M/M, Sleight of Hand, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:52:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5713318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hold the coin in your left hand," Napoleon says, with seemingly infinite patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The French Drop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonster/gifts).



> Details for the trick were taken from here: http://www.wikihow.com/Do-a-Basic-Sleight-of-Hand-Magic-Trick

"Hold the coin in your left hand," Napoleon says, with seemingly infinite patience. 

Which is hilarious, really, because he _knows_ the man and patient isn't really the word that he'd use to describe him. He bares his teeth, in a rough approximation of a smile, lifts his chin and meets Napoleon's maddening eyes, "I _am_ holding it in my left hand."

"Yes," Napoleon allows, but still looks at him like he's being a bit of a idiot. Which is, again, _hilarious_ , "but you're holding it in the wrong way. Place the coin between your thumb and your first two fingers- No, not like that, you'll dislocate your fingers if you hold it like that for too long. Like _this_."

He rolls his eyes, but allows Napoleon to arrange him into a new position. His touch is gentle, but gentle in the kind of way where roughness would almost seem preferable, "better?"

"For you and your doctors, certainly. For me..." Napoleon steps back, gives him a critical look. Like a mother hen, always clucking over the most insignificant of things, "it'll do. Now, can you tilt your hand towards you a little?"

He does so, scoffs, "it's not hard, Cowboy."

"Well I didn't think that holding a coin in your left hand would be hard, Peril, but you consistently find new ways to surprise me," Napoleon smirks at him, mockingly. He, knowing this dance by now, only politely bares his teeth again in reply, "okay, reach with your right hand as if you're going to grab the coin. That shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

He barely represses a glare, continues ever so politely baring his teeth as he moves his hand to obey.

"...Obviously I was mistaken," Napoleon sighs, and grabs his wrist again before he can do more than grunt under his breath, "thumb in under the coin, Peril, fingers over the top. Child's play."

"What on earth are children like in America?" He asks, maybe a touch sharply, but allows himself to be moved yet again. It's always easier, to play pliant when Napoleon is involved - it tends to rattle him more than any sign of resistance, "your country must be going to the _dogs_."

"Just because we grab things in the correct way?" Napoleon retorts, amused, but does at least let him go again. His eyes are slightly sharp when he steps back, satisfyingly annoyed, "palm the coin."

He stares flatly, unmoving.

"Drop the coin into the palm of your left hand," Napoleon says very slowly, like he's explaining to a particularly thick rock, "honestly, what on earth are children like in Russia if they can't grasp anything as simple as that? _Your_ country must be about to collapse into utter chaos, Peril."

"As chaotic as America?" He asks wryly, but finally obeys. Slides the coin awkwardly into the palm of his left hand, and grasps it there, "is that it?"

"Not quite," Napoleon allows, with a slight smirk, but doesn't step back. Just watches him closely, with a forensic attention rarely seen behind his blustering smile, "turn your left hand over, draw your right hand away as quickly as you can."

"I do not-" he starts stiffly, more confused than he ever likes being.

" _Misdirection_ , Peril, the key part of any con," Napoleon rolls his eyes, more obviously this time. Watches him pointedly until he gives in, obeys as smoothly as he can, "worship it as a goddess, and you'll be great. Drop your left hand, down to your leg. And keep moving your right hand up... There! Open it."

"The right hand?" He asks, no longer confused but still perfectly willing to be a dick.

"Unless you want your great coin trick to end with your money rolling across the floor and everybody looking at you like you've murdered the queen, then yes," Napoleon stares at him narrowly, watches as he heaves a sigh and opens his left palm, "good enough, I suppose. Needs more flourish, though. Were you born this dour, Peril, or did it come on in your adolescence?"

"Were you born this annoying, Cowboy, or did you bang your head a few times too many when you were a toddler?" He sniffs sharply in response, and only smirks as Napoleon glares at him, "I reveal the coin now, yes?"

"Not exactly," Napoleon hums, but at least restrains himself to that and no more annoying gesture. He seems to be barely holding onto his patience himself, bless him, "it's time to pull it out of my ear."

"But it's not in your ear," he points out, and blinks as innocently as the sky above.

"No," Napoleon says, through slightly gritted teeth, but still manages a slightly tighter version of his usual charming smile, "but it's your job to make me _think_ it was. Raise your left hand quickly, coin still in palm, and _pretend_."

"To pull it out of your ear?" He asks, and attempts to look as deliberately slow as possible. Demeaning, but worth it for the way that Napoleon's jaw gives the tiniest of twitches, "it seems somewhat over the top. Could I not simply put it in my pocket instead? Or keep it as a weapon for future use?"

"You will never make a showman, Peril," Napoleon grumbles, but narrowly keeps smiling. It's a pretty much superhuman feat, he admires the man even though he'd never admit it if they lived for a billion years, "but you have, at the very least, managed to make it through the whole explanation without choking on your own stupidity. Do you think you can manage it by yourself, now? Or will this prove a step too far for the Russian giant?"

"If you can do it, I'm sure that it's a matter of the utmost ease," he sniffs, and pushes the coin back into his fingers - attempts a version of what Napoleon just slowly walked him through, deliberately clumsy in a way _designed_ to make the other man wince "...There."

Napoleon stares at him for a long few seconds, eyes narrow and teeth still ground together. He smiles innocently, deliberately draws the coin from where he pocketed it and offers it like a token.

"...It's a good thing that we don't keep you around for your wits, Peril," Napoleon smiles eventually, still _ever_ so tight, and spins on his heel. Marches away, like a rod has just been stuck up his back, "the lesson is over for today, _please_ go insult the hell out of Gaby instead."

He smiles triumphantly, pockets the coin again and watches Napoleon's ass as he leaves. Quite honestly, the man is just _far_ too fun to rile.


End file.
